House Arrest or How to Tackle a Grudge
by Amledo
Summary: After the war Sirius is confined to Grimmauld under house arrest and Severus is the one that brings him his groceries. After a near death experience in the kitchen things change between the two former rivals, and neither could be happier. EWE and slash.


(A/N: I don't know what's with me lately, but I can't stop writing Harry Potter and it seems to be messing with my other fics. But at least I am still getting things written. Anyway, I don't own Harry Potter and I never will. And I have never written a Sirius/Severus fic, there were mentions of it, but this is the first time I am giving that particular pairing the full attention and I hope that I do it well enough. This is EWE and pretty much ignores books 5-7 as well. I don't know what else to say except that it's slash and I really don't do flames after I have given you the courtesy of a warning. On with the show!)

House Arrest or How to Tackle a Grudge

"You've been gone a long time," Sirius noted blandly, not glancing up from his copy of the Daily Prophet as Severus stepped out of the Floo. The other man narrowed his dark eyes and glared, but did not retort. Instead he placed the shopping on the table and took away Sirius's paper, thus forcing the taller man to help with the weekly task. Severus was surprised at the lack of protest and found himself able to appreciate the silence, even if it was shared with the typically frustrating brunette.

The war was long over, but Sirius Black was under house arrest, because whether or not he was wrongly imprisoned, breaking out of Azkaban was still a crime. And Severus, who had decidedly moved toward a more private life after the war and his Order of Merlin award, was the only one aside from Harry or Hermione that visited the house at Grimmauld Place anymore. He would never admit that he kept up the ritual to ensure that his former school rival was still around, that he hadn't survived the war alone. Apart from Remus, who had moved to America where laws regarding Werewolves were much more lax, Sirius was the only person that Severus truly knew from school. And somehow that made him feel like he should have died.

The breath whooshed out of his lungs as Sirius tackled him to the ground and Severus almost struck the taller man in his confusion. Instead he stared past shaggy brown locks and felt his heart skip a beat. The cabinet he had opened had been booby-trapped and an arrow had almost lodged itself in his head, instead it stuck, quivering in the wall across the room. Severus felt sick and didn't see the cause for shame when he clutched Sirius closer and drew a deep shaking breath.

"I haven't finished disarming this place. I should probably just put a permanent sticking charm on that door because I can't make that thing stop resetting," Sirius's voice was shaking almost as much as Severus's hands were. Neither had moved to separate themselves or to remove themselves from the floor. If Sirius noticed the way that Severus was holding onto him or how much the ebon haired man was shaking, he said nothing.

"You should. You come down here some night and aren't thinking and Harry will visit and find his Godfather speared to a wall. I'm not sure that he would appreciate that very much," Severus said as they sat up at last. He was trying desperately to bring back his usually snarky tone but Sirius did notice the way those long slender fingers rested over those concealed scars. Too many times Severus had come close to death and Sirius knew the feeling well enough that he kept his mouth shut, simply offering his hand to help the Potions master off of the floor.

"With your assistance, I would like to get this taken care of now," Sirius said as calmly as he could manage and gestured to the cabinet, the inside of which was filled with cobwebs, chipped china, and a crossbow. Severus swallowed thickly and nodded. Between them they managed to cast a sticking charm that would outlast the house itself. And then they resumed placing the groceries in the places that they could safely go.

Severus did not leave immediately afterward like he usually did; he sat at the table and allowed Sirius to make him a cup of tea. The silence was tolerable, almost companionable, but after a while Sirius began to worry about his former school rival. He placed his cup back on its saucer and stood up silently, walking around the table to stand beside Severus. The Potions master did not look up, just stared fixedly into his tea.

"Severus," Sirius kept his voice low, his grey eyes shining with confusion as he gently lifted the cup out of the other man's hands. "Are you alright?" Sirius asked, crouching so that he could see just what expression had taken over that pale face.

"I just…I'm normally so careful. I knew that that cabinet was trapped, if you hadn't been on your game…" Severus's voice was choked and Sirius instinctively reached out to swipe a stray tear from a delicate cheekbone. The war had changed Severus, the mask that was his role as they spy had fallen away and there was a man left over with 20 some odd years of not having truly existed. His personality was in a state of flux as he discovered who and what he actually was under all of that deception.

"But I was, and you are fine. Maybe some bruises from the floor, but otherwise you are fine. Do you need a Calming Draught? I have some in the med kit that you left…" Sirius's voice died in his throat when the former greasy bat of the dungeons dropped from the chair and into his arms. The only thing that he could think to do was to complete the embrace, wrapping his arms firmly around a too-slender back and holding on tight.

"No, I'll be fine. I'm sorry…I should be more put together than this," Severus said and tried to pull away, but Sirius held on tight and leaned his forehead against Severus's and grey eyes met black.

"You really shouldn't be. You should have broken down a long time ago. You've never had anyone to teach you how to let things go or to deal with fear or pain. Sev, if anybody deserves a damn good long cry right now, it's you," Sirius said and found that he meant it quite sincerely. He was not about to let go of a chance to help put things right between them. Harry had been harping on him to make a move toward healing old wounds, pointing out that nowhere did it say that Severus was required to do his shopping for him, so obviously Severus was the one offering the olive branch. And determined to be the man that his Godson wanted him to be, Sirius had been looking for ways to prove to Severus that he truly had grown up.

So he expected Severus to cry, he expected to run his fingers through that curtain of silken black hair (oh how wrong they had been to call it greasy) and to keep holding on until all the tears were gone. What he didn't expect was to feel the desire to kiss that black hair, to press his lips against that slim mouth and to never stop. He hadn't felt anything like that since his school days with Remus and it frightened him slightly.

It felt like hours had passed with them just sitting on the floor and eventually Severus went slack against Sirius's chest and the taller man was able to maneuver himself into a standing position with Severus cradled against him. The paler man had not fallen asleep, but hat cried himself into a stupor, much like Sirius had done the first several nights that he had been away from Azkaban. And somehow that made him feel even closer to Severus.

"You won't tell Harry will you? He already spends too much time worrying about me," Severus's voice was raw and weak as Sirius brushed long black hair away from tearstained cheeks. He couldn't resist the urge to kiss Severus's forehead and so he did, with a brilliant blush blooming on his cheeks just a fraction of a second later. But Severus just gave him a watery smile and linked their hands together, squeezing briefly in assurance.

"I won't tell the kid. But I don't want you to leave just yet either," Sirius found himself admitting and the blush deepened. He felt his mind turning back through the encounters that he had had with Severus, remembering the attention that he had paid to delicate hands or smooth pale skin and wondered how long it had gone unnoticed. There was a decidedly long time to make up for and that lent a sense of urgency to the hand that was clasped with Severus's, making him tighten his grip and wish to never let go.

"Don't worry, I won't," came Severus's half-asleep reply as Sirius found a bed to put him in. "Don't you leave either," an even quieter whisper made Sirius doubt his ears for a moment. He climbed into bed beside Severus and wrapped that slim body in his arms and they fell asleep together, both men feeling more relaxed than they had in a long time.

When Severus woke hours later and found himself pressed against Sirius Black's chest, his mind churned with possibilities for escape, but he resisted the urge to run from the situation and relaxed. Only minutes later, when Sirius woke up, black eyes met grey again and neither man spoke. They didn't need to. Sirius's larger hand cradled the side of Severus's face and he pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss. Severus's heart skipped a beat and he sank into the kiss, enjoying the sensation and smiling softly into the contact. It would be a long time before he was able to leave the war behind and truly be who he was meant to be, but suddenly that thought didn't seem too daunting. He would have Sirius by his side and they would heal together.

(A/N: Yes, I do know that it was OCC, but I meant for it to be. I do just kind of wonder what it would be like to see who Severus really was under all of that wartime misdirection. If you didn't like it then I apologize to you, but that's just how I wrote it. Now if anyone has any grammar issues to point out or spelling mistakes, then I can accept that and hopefully get it changed. Anyway, leave me a review to let me know how I did and as always, thanks for reading!)


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